


Perfect Places

by milo_g



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drinking, Español | Spanish, Established Eremika, Everyone swears, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, References to Drugs, jearmin is protagonist, link adentro, most of them are childhood friends, ooc probably, other characters to be added - Freeform, yumikuri if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-17 20:40:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29847189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/milo_g/pseuds/milo_g
Summary: “Happy?” Armin's cheeks were red too, but Jean wasn't sure if it was from the kiss or the alcohol."Happy is a term that doesn't apply to thissituation," he blurted out, looking elsewhere except Armin, pretending he wasn't happy, "but, no, I'm somewhat disappointed.""Auch.""I–I mean, that wasn't a real kiss.""Was it fake?" He mocked."It was like anelementary schoolone, that doesn't count as a kiss."Jean gathered his courage and looked into his eyes. Armin looked back at him,as if nothing, and Jean wondered who he was and what he had done with the real Armin.It wasn't like it bothered him though."Okay," Armin sighed and put his hands on the other's cheeks again, "but don't fall in love with me."Jean scoffed, placing his hands over his, "Same for you."
Relationships: Armin Arlert/Jean Kirstein
Comments: 3
Kudos: 44





	Perfect Places

**Author's Note:**

> This a four-part story for now. I haven't done the last part, so I don't know if it'll finish there or not lol
> 
> Link en español: [FANFICTION](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13771694/1/Perfect-Places) [WATTPAD](https://www.wattpad.com/998019841-perfect-places-lugares-perfectos)
> 
> [Follow me on twitter!](https://twitter.com/1000i_g%22)
> 
> Enjoy!

_Sexuality_ was something he avoided thinking about because, honestly, it wasn't something that kept him awake. He supposed that _eventually_ the answer would come to him. Or not. Anyway.

Television made it seem like it was quite a subject, complicated, and that if, for some reason, he did not fit into the canons of society, it would end badly, but Jean was confident.

He avoided thinking, but that didn't stop him from _acting_ . He dated the girls he wanted, it was easy for him to ask them out, plus it was mutual. He didn't invite girls he didn't know, or out of his league. It was casual. _There's a movie in the theater,_ blah, blah, blah, that kind of thing. If they rejected him, he would let the matter go. He took care of his pride first and foremost, he would never be chasing a girl, or anything like that.

Their rejection didn’t keep him awake either.

Didn’t keep him awake _most of the time_ . That's where the topic of sexuality came in, and, if Jean was honest, he was a _bit curious_ as to what it would be like to date a guy, although he didn't tolerate the thought of being rejected by one. Did it make sense? Of course not.

He wondered if he would ever get a chance to date one casually, like, the kind of date that you only realize it is one when the other says something _specific_ , so Jean could say “ _oh, it’s a date? That’s nice, ha, ha”._

And his opportunity, which although _it was not,_ came from the hand of a party. Uh, a little stereotypical.

It was a New Years Eve party. No, well, beginning of the year? Because it was January 2nd. Funny, because the idea had been to party before December was over, but blah, blah, blah. He didn't bother to read the group's messages.

He arrived that Saturday a little late, because whenever he arrived early they would send him to buy anything the other’s forgot, since he was the _only_ one who knew how to drive, apart from Eren. He wasn't going to run errands, he was going to hang out with his friends and drink alcohol. More drinking than being with them, oh, well.

It was after eleven o'clock and it was hot. He hoped Eren had done something about the mosquitoes, because he planned to sit in the backyard, hidden from the mess.

He entered the house and the first thing that greeted him were unfamiliar faces, already wasted. He was pretty sure the party had started an _hour_ ago, maybe they drinked shots.

He approached the kitchen, where he met the host.

“ _You!_ ” Jean looked back, then turned to Eren, pointing a finger at himself, "Of course you, you idiot."

"Fuck off," he returned, taking a clean cup and puring himself anything that was on the counter.

"You had to bring ice, and you're late," he grumbled, filling ice trays to put in the freezer.

Jean folded his arms and watched him turn abruptly and collide with the kitchen island, knocking the tray over.

"Fuck!"

"First, _you’re already drunk_? What would Mikasa say?” He mocked, ”and second, Connie stopped by my house and took the ice, so fuck off.”

"Mikasa wouldn't say anything," Eren grumbled, returning to the sink to refill the tray. “Connie brought the ice melted.”

"Not my problem." He turned, walking out of the kitchen. He walked past the entire party, straight to the backyard. Jean sat in one of the reclining lawn chairs, and it didn't take long for him to regret it, because it was _so_ comfy, but there were _so_ many mosquitoes. He was about to leave when someone opened the door.

"Oh, I didn't know you were here," Armin said, closing the door behind him. In one hand he had a glass and in the other repellent. He put it on and passed it to Jean.

"I didn't know you were coming," he returned, putting the repellent on his arms and face.

"Eren wouldn't leave me alone, and since Mikasa still hasn't returned…" he shrugged, "he gave me a bit of pity."

Jean laughed, "This Eren… always giving pity," Armin laughed too. 

He finished settling himself in the chair next to Jean and took a sip of his drink. “What are you drinking?”

"Vodka and juice ..." he drank a little and savored it, but he frowned, "of some flavor I can't recognize. You?”

Armin sighed and smiled slightly, anticipating.

“Beer.”

“Holy. Shit" he replied with mock emotion, "our little Armin is growing up! Shit, I have to put it in the group.”

He took out his cell phone, pretending he was going to take a picture, while Armin laughed.

"Damn dramatic drunks," he murmured and sipped from his glass. “I must say that beer is an acquired taste, not something you are born with, as you all say.”

"What, are you calling us _liars_?"

“Of course.”

"Ah– well, maybe we all bend the truth a bit," he conceded, concluding with laughter. Armin joined him with laughter, and Jean watched him while he took long drinks.

Before Jean could add anything else, the door was thrown open.

"What the fuck are you two doing, hiding here!?" Eren yelled, probably more drunk.

They both startled and then turned to the door.

"Did you fall on your head when you were a child, or were you already born like this?" Jean questioned and Armin chuckled.

Eren narrowed his eyes, but turned to Armin. “I’ll go buy more ice, can you watch so that nobody steals?”

"Sure," he raised the glass to his mouth, but he lowered it quickly, halfway to his mouth, "wait, are you going to _drive_?"

“Well–”

"Of course not/are you an idiot?" Armin and Jean said at the same time, and Jean continued, "Stop, I'll go, I still haven't had almost anything."

"Did you bring your car?"

"Of course not, give me the keys." He snatched them from his hand before he could walk away.

Armin turned to Jean's glass, noting that it was practically empty. He sighed and got up.

"Wait, I'll come with you," he walked behind Jean, and Eren at the end. He looked at him over his shoulder. “Call me if you need something else.”

They left the house, dodging Sasha and Connie, who had already started their karaoke.

They got in the car, Armin made sure Jean was buckled up tight, and they headed out into the street. He turned on the radio, setting it low.

"Where do they sell ice at this hour?" Jean asked, heading out onto the main street. Armin shrugged, "You're not helping much."

"Oh, no, I didn't come to help, I just wanted a ride," he teased, making Jean giggle. “Maybe at the gas station?”

"Maybe," he repeated in a deep voice.

They were going slowly and had the windows open. It was still hot, but not as unbearable as it was inside Eren's house.

"How were your holidays?" Asked Jean, when they stopped at a traffic light.

"Fine, I guess," Armin shrugged, "I spent them with my grandfather."

"You two alone?" He nodded, "why didn't you go to Eren's house like every year?"

"It's... It was their first holiday as a couple," he replied, referring to him and Mikasa, "I wanted to give them some space, you know?"

Jean nodded, and he continued, “I mean, sometimes I feel like I'm part of their relationship.”

"That's weird," he replied, laughing and moving when the traffic light changed.

"It’s _so_ weird," he said. “I mean, I know it was always the three of us, and I'm pretty sure they do this on purpose so as not to leave me out, but, hell, a little space. I don't think they even had any dates alone,” he concluded, turning to Jean.

"You're _kidding_ with me," he gasped, barely mocking.

“For real! It’s–"Jean laughed and Armin narrowed his eyes and frowned, “hey! Don't mock me while I open my heart to you.”

"You're not opening your heart to me, you’re venting your problems," he returned, to which Armin waved his hand dismissing him.

“Is the same.”

They fell silent, until Jean stopped at another traffic light.

“What about you?” Asked Armin.

Jean glanced at him barely, wondering whether he should return to the subject of his grandfather or not. Probably not.

"Fine, ah, tiring. My siblings came with their kids, so there were five children running around, screaming, and touching my things.”

"Awww, they came to see their uncle _Jeannie_ ," he teased.

"Uncle _Jeanbo_ , you mean," he corrected and Armin laughed, "and no, actually, they ignored me the entire time they were there."

"Is that so?"

"Uh-huh," the light changed and Jean looked back at him, "the biggest one, Mickey, is the only one following me, but, like, in a teenager way?"

"What the fuck does that mean?" They both laughed. “Besides, isn't he like eight?”

“Twelve.”

“Shit.”

“And it's– it's like, I don't know, like yes, but no?” Armin looked at him like he was talking nonsense, "like, ‘I'm too cool to hang out with the little ones’ and ‘we're both the biggest’, you know?

“I don’t.”

“Well, nevermind.”

Finally, they found a gas station. He drove over to the ice dispenser and got out of the car. Armin stared after him, watching as Jean inspected the machine, took out his wallet, and then came back.

"Do you have coins?"

Armin rummaged in his pockets, feeling two.

“How much do you need?”

"The bag’s ten, so… thirty?"

"Forty, just in case," he replied. He took out the coins. Two of one. “Ah, I think Eren has some around here.”

Jean sat back in the car, and they began to rummage through the compartments.

"I found twenty," Armin said.

"I found a condom!" Jean exclaimed and began to laugh. Armin blushed slightly and laughed too. “Your friends have _sex_!”

“Don’t say it!” Jean tossed the condom at him and continued to search for coins. “Shit, don't make me think about– Ugh!”

"But, _Armin_ , it's a natural act," he used an innocent tone, "everyone has sex, it's a show of _affection_ –"

"Oh, shut up," Jean laughed, "I don't want to hear that from you."

“Excuse me?”

"You don't do it out of affection."

Jean gasped, offended, "how can you say that!? I love every person I fuck!”

"You love to _fuck_ them."

"Ah– you caught me there." He winked at him, and then turned around, laughing. He counted the coins in his fist and reached for the other to give him the ones he had. “Well, we’ve got thirty-five, if no one's looking, I'll bring five bags.”

He got out of the car again, and Armin followed him with his eyes. He outlined the figure of Jean, wrapped in a somewhat _ridiculous_ short-sleeved shirt, but it fit well, and watched as he patiently put the coins, one by one.

Armin took his phone out of his pocket; zero messages. He turned to the other, seeing that he came with two bags in his arms. He turned and opened the back door, for him to throw them inside. They repeated this one more time, and they were done.

"Ah, the machine malfunctions with new coins," he giggled and then felt a chill. “Shit, that’s cold! Look, look!” He stretched out his arm to Armin. He barely touched the inner skin of his forearm, so smooth and soft, and so cold.

"Damn," he murmured, playing along.

They left the gas station in silence. The radio was on commercials and announced that it was midnight when they came to a stoplight.

“And what about you?” Asked Jean, "are you dating someone?"

Armin denied.

“You?”

"Nah," he yawned and ran a hand through his hair, "I was thinking about, uh, one night fling."

"You sound like movie dubbing." Armin wrinkled his nose.

"How is it supposed to be called?"

"One night stand," he smiled, knowing Jean's response.

"You and your _Marlenian_ expressions, we're in Eldia, damn it, in Eldia!" he exclaimed, mocking the old nationalists.

"Ah, you sound just like my senile grandfather," Armin joked and Jean laughed.

"Auch! That is crude.”

"Going back to the other thing," the blond cut in, "so, something of one night?"

"That was the idea, but I recognized some faces from Sasha's crazy friends," Armin frowned, not understanding, "the kind who steal your credit card while you sleep."

"What the fuck? I never heard of that happening to anyone.”

"Oh," he chuckled, embarrassed, and Armin whirled to him.

"I _need_ to hear that story," he said, and laughed when Jean turned red and frowned. “I can't believe that happened to you!”

“Just once!” he defended himself, "and I won't tell you, unless you promise to–"

"That I won't tell Eren, blah, blah, blah, begin."

“To nobody! Not a word!”

“Yeah, I get it!

They stopped at a traffic light. Jean sighed and looked at him, Armin's eyes sparkling with anticipation and his mouth seemed ready for a laugh.

"It's not a big deal," he shrugged, "I went out with a girl, bought her a coffee, she saw that I had a credit card, ah, _things happened_ , and when I woke up at home, she was gone, my wallet _as well_.”

"You're really bad at telling a story," Armin said.

"Come on, what do you want? Going into details?”

“Well, yeah!”

"Ah, let's see…" He rubbed a hand over his chin, thinking. The traffic light changed, turned, and stopped at another. “It was a weekday, I had to go to the office to see a client, so I was wearing a suit, or some shit like that. When I met her, at the cafe– and pay _attention_ “ he raised a finger, looking at him; Armin was grimacing, trying to hold back a laugh, and nodded, "because this was her _very first_ red flag, which I decided to ignore.”

He started the car.

"When we met," he continued, "she looked me _up and down_ , and then snorted, like, judging my clothes."

"You sure had your tie still on."

“Well– _maybe_ , but still! What kind of person…”

"You're exaggerating," he spoke over him, all interest lost.

"What kind of person does that? It's totally rude.”

"That didn't stop you from sleeping with her."

Jean snorted an affirmation. They arrived at Eren's and the story was forgotten.

The party was still the same, as if they hadn't been gone for twenty minutes. They left the ice in the freezer, grabbed a couple of cans off the counter and a packet of potato chips, and headed back to the backyard. When they passed through the living room, Sasha was sitting on the couch, between Christa and Ymir, with each of her arms around their shoulders, rocking them with her as she sang. Ymir turned to them, making eye contact with Jean, and moved her lips, _help_.

"Oh, look," he said, elbowing Armin slightly, "Ymir is in pain."

"Ah, I love happy endings," he replied, walking past.

"What did you say, Armin? That you need help? Coming!” She said, jerking off Sasha and following them out. “Fucking bastards.”

"Hey, you're free, aren't you?"

"Yeah, you're welcome," Armin replied, going out to the backyard first, finding Eren in his place on the chair, asleep. He took out his phone and took a photo, to send it later to Mikasa.

"Aw, how cute," Jean said in a mock voice.

"He really is," Ymir agreed, standing next to him. “Wanna prank him?”

"Shit, how I missed you, Ymir," Jean returned. “Armin, will you do the honors?”

"You are cruel," he answered, but still took his phone out to record.

The other two stood on either side of Eren, grabbed the chair, careful not to wake him, and led him to the mini pool, which was no more than two feet deep.

"With or without a chair?" Jean whispered.

"Whitout," Armin and Ymir said at the same time, and she turned to him, "then you say that we are cruel."

"If you're going to do it, do it right."

“Say no more.”

"Wait!" Armin whispered. He walked over to them, gently touching Eren's pocket, and took his phone from him. “Go ahead.”

They counted while rocking him in the chair, when they reached three, they pushed him forward with force, throwing him into the water.

Eren was soon awake, waving his arms, and screaming.

"Fuckers! I’ll never invite you again!” he yelled, then saw that Armin was still recording. Eren pointed a finger at him, narrowing his eyes, " _traitor_."

"They forced me!" He lied, unashamed.

“That’s a lie” Jean exclaimed, "it was his and Ymir's idea."

The three of them turned to Ymir, except that she had already escaped.

Eren kept cursing, as he entered the house, leaving Armin and Jean alone, laughing. Armin sat in the chair that Jean used to occupy, and he carried Eren's, setting it next to him. They opened the beer cans and drank in silence, occasional giggles escaping their mouths.

The night was still hot, there was a little warm breeze that blew every so often, but it was nice. Jean expected that at any moment, Eren would come back to get back at him, but after fifteen minutes, he assumed that he had either forgotten or entertained himself with something else.

Jean turned Armin, next to him; he had the can in his mouth and took long gulps without taking his eyes off his phone. When he put down the drink, Jean could see that his nose and cheeks were reddish, something unusual in his pale complexion, so he was sure he was already a _little drunk_. He wondered what he would look like, because he was already going for his second can of beer and, if he shook his head too fast, the patio would spin a few times.

The noise from the party had subsided quite a bit– by noise he meant _Sasha and Connie_ , because he no longer heard the scream-like singing from them. Perhaps they went to sleep. Maybe they went to hide in a room to–

“Are you okay?” Armin asked after Jean had a chill.

"Oh, yeah, I was just thinking about horrible things."

"Right," he said, yawning. He stretched and then rolled onto his side in the chair, toward Jean. “Tell me something.”

“Something like what?”

"Whatever, or I’ll fall asleep. And I don't want to wake up in the pool, so…”

Jean finished his can, burped, and opened the bag of chips.

"My mom is going to stay with my sister for a few weeks," he mumbled and Armin nodded, "I'm sure it's just one, but, well."

"If you have girls over, don't let them steal you."

"I'll keep that in mind," Jean smiled.

"That wouldn't happen to you if you invited me."

Jean turned slowly, his mouth barely open in shock. Armin was looking to his side and his nose was wrinkled.

"That sounded better in my head," he said and sighed.

"Armin Arlert, are you _flirting_ with me?" Jean teased, because he didn't know how else to react.

"Depends, is it working?"

“...Maybe.”

“Then no.”

Jean gasped, one hand on his chest, and Armin laughed.

"Come on, did I hurt your feelings? You don't even like guys.”

“What do you know?” he returned, opening the remaining can of beer. He felt Armin's gaze on him as he drank, waiting for him to add something else.

"I thought I knew," he said, when the other didn't speak. Jean pulled out a chip. “Gimme.”

Armin opened his mouth and Jean gave him one, then shrugged.

"I don't know, really. I never had a chance? I don't know,” he repeated.

Armin nodded and opened his mouth, where Jean left another potato. They were silent. Armin's eyes were small from sleep, and he was looking towards one place close to the other. Jean, on the other hand, looked at the sky, lost in his thoughts, turning over and over again Armin's words and the small, _tiny_ possibility that _something_ could happen.

But, _how could he bring it up?_

"It's cold, isn't it?" Armin mumbled, as he stretched.

Jean turned to him, _smiling_ , and patted his chest.

"There's room for one more."

Armin sat up and frowned, ah, embarrassed?

"Forget it, Jean, I'm not going to be your _experimentation_."

"Come on, aren’t we friends?" He teased as he watched Armin disappear through the door. He sighed, and drank what was left of the can in two long gulps, burping again. Huh, maybe that's why he’d rejected him.

Jean ate a couple more chips, then closed the bag and put it under the chair, so no one would step on it, and went into the house. The humid heat of the room greeted him, and it wasn't so unpleasant. There were few people who stayed _not wasted_ , although he didn't see any of his friends there. Wasn't much of a surprise to him either.

Third trip to the kitchen, the night was young to not be drunk. There he found Ymir and Christa, quite close, saying things in their ears.

“ _What_ are they doing?” Jean asked, emphasizing at first to scare them. Christa jumped up and excused herself out of the kitchen, all red. Ymir crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes at Jean.

"So you have chosen death," he said, taking the bottle of white wine next to her.

Jean took a step back, but came back when he saw that she was drinking from the bottle, and had no intention of wasting it. He sighed and walked over to the refrigerator, feeling Ymir's curious gaze.

"The fuck you looking at?" He asked, pulling out half a sandwich and biting into it.

She shrugged and handed him the bottle, receiving the sandwich in return. “You look sad, like, _more than usual_.

"I never look sad," he said, frowning, drinking from the spout.

"Oh, so it was just envy," she teased before biting into the sandwich.

Jean grimaced and sighed, then put the bottle in the middle. Ymir handed him the sandwich back, and he noted that there was less than half of it left.

"I'm not envious, but I can't deny that I'm _curious_ how you go flirting so carefree."

"We both know you don't have the same abilities," he rolled his eyes, "but don't you do it too?"

"Well, yeah, but I mean asking out… _guys_ ," he whispered, _like it was a secret_.

"Damn, Jeannie’s gay?" She asked, in sincere surprise, stopping the bottle before it reached her lips.

"Of course not, I like tits too much" he smiled and Ymir joined him.

“Cheers to that.”

“But, it doesn’t sound _that bad_ to–”

"Fuck a dude?"

"Too soon," he said, trying not to think about it so much.

Ymir laughed, long and heartfelt, and Jean realized that she was _more drunk_ than she appeared. He ran a hand over his chin and scratched at the beard from a few days, waiting for her to finish laughing. He took the last bite of the sandwich and snatched the bottle of wine, which was almost empty.

"How to Flirt: A Guide For Losers by Ymir Fritz," she announced and Jean rolled his eyes. “In your case, we’ll call the person you choose a _victim_.”

"Auch."

"So you choose a victim– don't be an _idiot_ , and choose someone within your league." Jean folded his arms, wondering if it was a good idea to ask her. “You walk up, you smile, you ask questions about this person, like, does she have pets– that's one for sure, girls love to talk about their dogs or cats, or whatever the fuck they have.”

"Noted," he said, though he had already lost interest. He returned to the refrigerator and inspected what else he could steal.

"If they talk to you about their dead pets, change the subject immediately, but be sly. Actually, the trick is to be sly all the time, don't let them think you're desperate. Let them think they are _special_ because you notice them. Another thing, you always have to be attentive to body language, if they do this “she chuckled, covering her mouth”, or this “she ran a hand through her hair, looking everywhere except Jean “most likely is that they already fell–”

"What the fuck is going on here?" Connie asked from the doorway. "Are you two flirting?"

“What did I tell you?” Ymir gave her a triumphant slap on the shoulder and snatched the can he had pulled out, walking out of the kitchen.

Connie shrugged at no response and walked over to the refrigerator, pulling a half-frozen bottle from the freezer.

”What's that? Water?” Jean asked, coming closer.

"It was vodka."

"Huh."

Connie shook the bottle, mixing the content, then poured it into a glass.

“You want some? It's the cheap one,” he said in the other's direction, while he grabbed two more cups.

"I can see that," he replied, holding up the disposable cups, so they wouldn't tip over. Connie filled them halfway– and maybe a little _more_ , then topped them off with some dubious sourced juice on the counter. He took two glasses, leaving the third for Jean, who spoke before he left, "Have you seen Armin?"

He shrugged, "I ran into him in the upstairs bathroom, a while ago."

Jean nodded, waited for Connie to leave, and headed upstairs.

If there was something Jean was avoiding thinking about, it was _why Armin,_ because although the most obvious answer was that the subject had already been up between them, the truth was something that Jean didn’t want to analyze.

Going upstairs he passed the window that overlooked the backyard, and he snorted when his eyes caught two lumps that looked like Ymir and Christa, kissing in a half-dark corner. Ymir was talkative, _make them believe that they are special because you notice them_ , everyone knew that Ymir was head over heels for her, for _months_.

He walked on, not paying much attention to his thoughts, and he took the steps two at a time to the top, almost colliding with Eren.

“Where do you think you are going?” Eren questioned, poking his chest with a finger.

"Where do _you_ think you are going? Kids should be asleep by this time.”

"Fuck off," he mumbled and went downstairs grumbling that he still had another year to grow up, and that he would be taller than Jean at any moment.

Jean took the first drink of vodka and juice, and all he could taste was regret for letting Connie make it.

On the top floor of Eren's house there were four doors: bathroom, Eren's room, his brother's, and his parents' room. His brother's was always locked, so Armin wasn't there. The bathroom door was ajar, so neither was there.

He walked over to Eren's parents' room and knocked twice, but the door that opened was the next one, Eren's.

“What are you doing?” Armin poked his head out.

"Didn't you open too fast?" Jean frowned slightly and leaned closer to enter.

"I'm waiting for Eren, he said he'd bring me half a sandwich," he said, walking back to lay on the bed. Jean kept quiet, thinking of a lie in case he was accused, and closed the door behind him. “How’s the party?”

He shrugged and sat on the bed, against the wall, putting Armin's legs on his lap. He took a sip, and only when Armin let out a dry cough Jean noticed the _not-so-natural_ smell in the room.

"Were you smoking?" Armin barely glanced at him, but he turned his attention to his phone, which was plugged into the wall next to his head. " _Without me?_ "

“What’re you drinking?” He mumbled with a hoarse voice, ignoring him.

“Vodka.”

Armin sat up, took his legs off Jean and crossed them, still staying close to him. He received the cup from the other's hands and took two long gulps. Jean couldn't help but wonder if he would regret drinking like this tomorrow.

"It’s not good," Armin commented, handing him the cup.

"I couldn’t tell," he said sarcastically. “What are you doing here, locked up?”

"Party’s boring," he laid back, stretching.

“Not cool.”

"I'm not… bah, it could be," he replied. He was still cross-legged, leaning a bit against Jean's thigh, and his arms were thrown back over the back of the bed. Jean's eyes continued to outline Armin's body, moving down from his arms, to his torso, specifically the end of it, where the shirt had just lifted, revealing soft-looking white skin.

He had to raise the glass to his lips, because he couldn't think of any other way to close his mouth.

"I saw Ymir and Christa kissing," he said then, wanting to change the subject in his own head.

“Yeah? About time.” He straightened back and ran a hand over his face and hair. “I'm done seeing Christa's posts about her pinning.”

Armin kept moving, trying to find a comfortable position to chat and drink. He put his phone aside and sat against the wall like Jean, with her legs against his chest.

"You are restless," pointed out the other.

“Does it bother you?”

"Oh, and daring too. What would Mikasa say?” He teased.

Armin laughed and gave him a shove with his legs, "she surely say something like what the _fuck_ we're doing in Eren's room, in the middle of a party."

"How bold of you to assume that she wouldn't be in some dark corner with Eren, doing things that would make _God-Ymir_ cry."

"And would make _Person-Ymir_ proud," Armin added and laughed, leaning closer to the other.

Jean laughed softly and drank what was left in the cup in one gulp. He barely burped, contemplating how drunk he was, and when he concluded that he was _enough_ , he turned to Armin.

“We should kiss.”

"Oh? To break the _tension_?” He joked and laughed louder, resting his forehead on his shoulder.

Jean blushed slightly, annoyed that he was teasing him so much, but before he could say anything else, he felt Armin's cold hands on his cheeks, pulling him closer to himself.

And if he was _blushing_ before, now he was fire red.

“Happy?” Armin's cheeks were red too, but Jean wasn't sure if it was from the kiss or the alcohol.

"Happy is a term that doesn't apply to this _situation_ ," he blurted out, looking elsewhere except Armin, pretending he wasn't happy, "but, no, I'm somewhat disappointed."

"Auch."

"I– _I mean_ , that wasn't a real kiss."

"Was it fake?" He mocked.

"It was like an _elementary_ _school_ one, that doesn't count as a kiss."

Jean gathered his courage and looked into his eyes. Armin looked back at him, _as if nothing_ , and Jean wondered who he was and what he had done with the real Armin.

It wasn't like it bothered him though.

"Okay," Armin sighed and put his hands on the other's cheeks again, "but don't fall in love with me."

Jean scoffed, placing his hands over his, "Same for you."

Armin's lips were soft, just like his kisses. So soft they tickled Jean, and if it weren't for making him impatient, he would have liked them even more. Armin caressed his cheeks and the end of his jaw with his fingers, making him smile and sigh in the kiss.

He wanted to dig into it, but every time he tried to stick his tongue in the other's mouth, Armin would shut it, and he had the nerve to giggle afterward.

"You're impatient," he whispered against his lips.

"You're going too slow," he replied before kissing him softly. He bit down on his lower lip and Armin pulled away from him, reaching down to his neck, kissing and licking him, stealing a sigh from Jean. “That doesn't count as going non-slow.”

"You complain way too much, you know." Armin jerked away, looking into his eyes. He was frowning, but his smile didn't fade. Jean smiled almost regretfully and went over to kiss him again, but he pulled away. The other opened his mouth to complain, but Armin clapped him on the arm, "I'll go get something to eat."

"Ah, come on…”

"You can come with me, maybe you’ll find someone who goes faster at the party." He got out of bed and walked to the door. Before leaving, he turned to Jean. “I’m sure Sasha has a _friend_ to introduce you.”

"You're _cruel_ , I'll never tell you anything again."

With complaints and all, he ended getting up and followed the other downstairs. In the living room, people had been renewed, there were a few he didn’t know, Eren, who had his eyes fixed on the television, playing a racing game with Connie, who was in the single chair, and Sasha, who was sleeping on the couch, head on one of Eren's leg.

Before he could say anything, Ymir called him from the backyard door.

"Did it work?" He asked. She was leaning against the frame and had a cigar between her fingers.

Jean wasn't sure, because that was what he least of all had thought about while he was kissing Armin.

"I haven't put them into practice yet," he thought of making a comment that she did use her own advides, but Christa appeared.

"Ready," she said in Ymir's direction. She smiled and tossed the cigar out.

"Hey, I saw you!" Eren exclaimed.

“Your’re leaving?” Asked Jean.

"That's right, I have a few things to do downtown tomorrow, and our dear Christa offered to let me sleep at her house," Ymir replied, putting an arm around her shoulders.

"Sure you do," he said ironic and walked past to the patio, "have fun or whatever."

He sat on the patio chair and reached under him, hoping to find the chips he had left earlier. He took out the package, but it was empty.

"Damn it," he muttered, thinking of Ymir. Then he saw next to him, on the small table that separated the two chairs, a pack of cigars with a lighter. “ _Ymir bless you._ ”

He opened it and it was almost complete. Jean felt a bit guilty, because she tried to help him earlier.

He got up grumbling and walked to the front door, across the room, but when he opened it, there was no one. He turned to the kitchen, where Armin was just pulling a plate of spaghetti out of the microwave.

"What the hell."

"Oh, Jean, if I didn't know you, I'd think you're following me," he joked, putting the plate down on a cloth and reaching for a fork in the drawer.

Jean snorted, "I'm not following you, they're just coincidences."

“Uh-huh.”

"Anyway, has Ymir left yet?" Armin nodded and Jean slipped the cigars into his back pocket. He was lost for a moment in his thoughts, _thank you, alcohol_ , and when he returned, Armin was looking at him with a raised eyebrow, chewing spaghetti. Jean ran a gallant hand through his hair and smiled, "Shall we continue from before?"

"Don't make me laugh, I don't want the noodles to come out of my nose."

"Well, I'll wait until you're drunker," Jean joked, walking over to the refrigerator, looking for a drink.

"Wow, that sounded so horrible, I feel like I should tell everyone."

Jean ignored him, and closed the refrigerator, disappointed. He sighed.

“What?” Asked Armin.

"There is nothing else to drink."

Armin checked the time on his cell phone.

"It's close to four o'clock, isn't it time for everyone to leave?"

Jean shrugged and left the kitchen. Sasha was still sleeping on Eren's lap, but he wasn't playing anymore. His eyes were narrowed and he seemed to be struggling not to fall asleep. Connie kept playing, but it was an one-player shooting game. He continued into the courtyard, but no one was there. Before he could climb the stairs, some girls were coming down. They barely said goodbye and left. Jean checked the upper floor, also empty. He came back, stood in the middle of the room and clapped loudly.

“The party is over!” Eren jerked awake, scared and disoriented, and Sasha raised his head slightly, wiping the drool away.

“What time is it?”

"Five o'clock," Jean lied. Eren and Sasha moaned, annoyed.

"Where can I sleep?" She asked and Eren shrugged.

"In your house, maybe?"

"Come on, don't be like that."

"Sasha, you live literally down the street."

She crossed her arms, still lying on Eren. “I don't want to walk there, alone.”

Jean sighed, "come on, I'll walk you. You too, Connie.”

"YoU ToO, cONniE," he mocked and turned off the game console as Sasha went upstairs to get her jacket.

"Is anyone else leaving?" Jean asked into the air, and Eren yawned, stretching out on the couch.

“You?”

"You wish, I'm kicking them out so I can sleep here."

"I don't know if Armin… I don't even know if he's still here."

"Here I am," he said, leaning out of the kitchen.

Jean nodded, "I'm going to walk them home. You coming?” Armin grimaced. "If you don’t, you'll have to help Eren clean up."

"Ugh, okay."

Sasha came back and the four of them went out. Sasha lived in the last house on the block, while Connie lived in a building two blocks later. They walked in silence, only their footsteps echoing in the deserted streets at dawn on Sunday. It was cool and damp, probably the prelude to a rain later.

"It was fun, wasn't it?" Connie broke the silence, receiving three _uh-huh_ from the others, "too bad Mikasa missed it."

"I think she's back today," Armin murmured. He was walking alongside Jean, both behind Sasha and Connie.

"Does anyone want to remind me where she is?" Asked Jean.

"Nah," Sasha and Connie said. They arrived at her house, he barely said goodbye and when she closed the door behind her, the others continued.

"She went with her uncle to a funeral," Armin replied when they resumed walking.

“Uncle?” Connie asked.

"Levi," they replied in unison.

"Right, I always forget."

"Anyway, she told me not to tell Eren she was coming back tomorrow, because he surely would want to postpone the party, and she's not in the mood."

Jean wanted to ask who had died, but Connie did it first.

"I think a great-aunt? I'm not sure” he shrugged. "Anyway, she didn't seem very affected.”

They went the rest of the way in silence. They arrived at Connie's apartment and said goodbye to him. They walked relatively fast (fast for Armin, medium for Jean). The sky was still dark, and it seemed like it wasn't even five o'clock. They arrived at Eren's house, and found him dragging a black plastic bag, dumping all the trash.

"When’s your family coming back?" Armin asked, stricken with the disorder.

“Tomorrow? Maybe at night, I don't know.”

"Ah, well, we can clean up when we wake up," Jean saw the doubt in Eren's eyes, "come on, we won't leave while you sleep, it's not something friends do."

"You did that." Eren narrowed his eyes.

"Twice," Armin added and Jean looked at him.

“Which side are you on?”

"Whatever, I'm not leaving, okay? I'll help you, but tomorrow.”

Eren sighed. He dropped the garbage bag in the middle of the room and turned to go up the stairs.

"Turn everything off and lock the door," he ordered, taking the steps two at a time and stumbling on the last one. “Shit.”

Jean laughed, more to annoy him, and turned to the door, locking it. On his way back, he turned off the kitchen light and when he reached the living room, Armin's arms welcomed him, holding his neck and pulling him to kiss him again. Jean wasted no time _thinking_ about the situation and hugged his waist, at the same time he opened his mouth, _finally_ receiving his tongue. Armin's hands slid from his neck to his shoulders, then to his chest and slowly down Jean's waist and hips, until they settled on–

"Are you grabbing my ass?/What do you have here?" They asked at the same time. Jean put his hand over Armin's, feeling the packet of cigarettes. “Oh, yeah, Ymir forgot about them.”

"Oh! Wanna smoke them?” Armin proposed excitedly.

“I would rather–”

Armin interrupted him by kissing him softly and then grabbed his arm, dragging him out. On the way he hit the light button, leaving the room and patio in darkness.

They sat on the floor by the door, much to Jean's annoyance.

"If we're in the chairs, we won't be able to kiss."

“Well thought.”

The sky was still dark when they each took one out and light them. Jean coughed slightly and looked at Armin, who smoked like it was something of every day.

"What happened to the innocent Armin, who cried at horror movies?" Jean scoffed and he grinned.

"He’s got depression," he joked, "besides, that was like fifteen years ago."

"Shit, I can't believe we've known each other so long."

Armin laughed and blew out the smoke, "It took you fifteen years to flirt with me. You beat Connie's mark.”

Jean let out a laugh that ended in coughing.

"Connie hit on to you?" Armin made a more or less gesture, "I need to know that."

"Well, but don't tell him I told you," he giggled, "it was a few years ago, I think when we were in our senior year. At a party, for a game, we ended up kissing, and then he spent the next few days harassing me because he wasn't sure if he was gay or not.”

“And? Is he?”

"How am I supposed to know? Out of nowhere he stopped talking to me for two weeks, and when he did, he told me that he had made out with Reiner and, I quote, _he is a real friend, because afterwards he kissed me again sober.”_

Jean spent a few seconds processing that.

“Wait, _what?_ ”

"It seems that when he's drunk, kisses gives him tickleds–"

"Not that," he laughed, "I mean, did Reiner kiss him? Sober? What the fuck. I thought he was in love with Christa.”

"At this point" Armin took the last drag and stubbed out his cigar on the floor, "I couldn't care less." He approached Jean with clear intentions to kiss him, but he stopped. "Did you finish smoking?"

He stubbed out his unfinished cigar, “I’m done now.”

He liked the feel of Armin's hands on his cheeks, he felt that that was the place where they were meant to be. They fit perfectly. Like LEGO pieces.

The breath between them was bitter and minty, and he wasn't sure if it was because of Armin or him, but he didn't care at all. It gave the kiss another touch, made his bites burn hotter, and he loved it.

Armin's tongue stroked his mouth slowly, _savored_ him, and the slowness felt so good that infected Jean. He wondered if Armin had kissed Connie like that too.

“What’s wrong?” He whispered when Jean pulled away. He frowned at him, and Armin raised an eyebrow.

"Sorry, my thoughts are intermingled."

"Uh-huh, weird" he got up with difficulty because of his leg asleep. Jean held his hand, wanting him to stay, but Armin tugged at it. “Let's go inside, I'm sleepy.”

Jean felt a sting of disappointment, but he couldn't deny that he wanted to get some sleep, too. They crossed the room, colliding with the sofa and stumbling on the stairs, but without letting go of each other’s hands. Eren's room was open, and when they peeked in, the bed was empty. Armin walked over to the closet, as he did many other times, and pulled out a pair of pajama bottoms.

"Do you want pajamas?" He mumbled and Jean nodded as he went to the bathroom.

He sat and looked at his phone, thinking, a little late, if he had something important to do for the day. He couldn't remember anything.

He looked at himself in the mirror before leaving, saw his hair matted from passing his hand so much, and dark circles under his red and tired eyes. Poor Armin, kissing him when he wasn't in his prime.

He washed his face and left. Armin was wearing Eren shorts that Jean was sure he had given him for his birthday last year. He was on the bed, cross-legged, staring at his cell phone. Jean started unbuttoning the shirt he was wearing, with his back to Armin. When he finished, he noticed the clothes he had left for him, but there was only a pair of pants. How bad would it be…?

"I forgot to give you a T-shirt, right?" He got up and walked over to the closet. Armin took an old, faded T-shirt and held it up to him, but before handing it, he poked his stomach with a finger, "although it's not like you need it."

Jean hugged himself, red, protecting his belly, embarrassed and annoyed. Armin giggled slightly, but he headed out towards the bathroom.

When he returned, Jean was lying against the wall, on his side, with her head resting on his arm.

"Surely you would _love_ to see me shirtless."

"You took your time to think of an answer, huh," he replied. He turned off the light and lay down next to him, on his back. “I don't like skin-to-skin contact.”

"Not even with me?"

"Much less with you, you're always very hot."

“Oh, yeah?” He asked in a seductive tone.

"Yes, very sweaty," he concluded, laughing.

Jean sighed, thinking that he had already accomplished enough in one night. He settled better on his side, his hands under his head and his eyes closed. He wasn't sure if he had fallen asleep when he felt the other move.

“Are you okay?” His voice came out hoarse, somewhat uncomfortable in his throat.

"I'm cold," Armin murmured. He was in a ball, covered with the sheet. Jean touched his face and arm, not feeling him especially cold. Perhaps it had been the combination of everything he had consumed in the night.

Jean moved closer to him, pressing Armin against his chest. He circled his back, trying to warm him up, and while he felt Armin relax more, he also felt the shivers in his body increase.

At some point, he fell asleep, because suddenly, it was daylight. He moved his head slightly, and hit the wall with his forehead. He rolled onto his back, rubbing his face, and groped on the bed for Armin or on a phone, to check the time. There was none.

He barely got up, his eyes blazing from the light, and found his phone on the edge of the bed frame, with two percent battery. It was eleven o'clock.

He slumped over his face for a while, then stood up. He didn't bother to change Eren's pajamas, because it was hotter than the night before. He went to the bathroom, shuffling into some Crocs, also Eren's, then peeked into the room where he assumed he was sleeping. His guess was correct, because he was snoring.

He went to the other floor and wrinkled his nose when he saw that the mess was still there, and that it hadn’t magically disappeared.

In the kitchen, Armin was sitting on a chair on the island, leaning over his phone. Jean thought, what could go wrong?

"Wouldn't do it if I were you," he said, before Jean even kissed the corner of his lips, without turning around, "I didn't brush my teeth."

“Me neither.”

"I _threw up_."

"Ugh, you're right." He sat down next to him and laid his head on the cold table. “Too bad?”

"Nah, all the poison’s out."

Jean yawned and closed his eyes, then looked for Armin's leg with his hand until he found it, and caressed his knee.

“Excuse you?” he questioned with a raised eyebrow.

“What?”

"You're _touching_ me."

"What are you, twelve?" Jean scoffed. He brought his hand up a little, stroking the other's thigh, and then returned to the knee, trailing his fingers gently. He looked up at him, searching for some reaction, but beyond the rosy cheeks, Armin remained stoic. He continued stroking his leg, sliding his fingers down his inner thigh.

"S- _stop_ ," Armin sighed and Jean stopped his hand, pulling it away. Two seconds passed, and Jean got his mouth to Armin's neck, barely kissing him and brushing his teeth. Armin leaned over the caress for a moment, but then pulled away, turning to Jean. “Hey.”

“What?” He feigned innocence and smiled. Armin wanted to be upset, but Jean's smile was contagious. He moved closer, barely kissing his mouth, which was firmly closed.

Jean outlined Armin's chin with a finger as he kissed him soft, stealing tickles and sighs.

"You’re disgusting," Armin murmured, brushing his lips.

Before the other could answer, heavy footsteps were heard from the upper floor. Jean sighed in annoyance and leaned his head back on the counter. Armin stretched out in his place, and turned the moment Eren entered.

"Why didn't you wake me up!?” Armin turned his back to him again and Jean ignored him. “Don’t ignore me!”

"Why the fuck were we going to wake you up for? So you could yell?” Jean questioned.

Eren walked away grumbling, going into the living room. Jean got closer to Armin.

"Isn’t him, like, more hyper than usual?" He whispered looking at the door.

"He gets stressed when Mikasa is away," Armin replied. He got up from the chair, ready to help him tidy up. Jean sighed in his place and joined them.

In twenty minutes they were finished. Armin threw himself on the sofa, Jean went up to the room to find his charging phone and Eren was at the door.

"I'll go pick Mikasa up." He looked up from his phone and opened the door. Before leaving, he turned to Armin, "I'll be back _quickly_ , okay?"

"Uh, okay?"

"Bring food!" Jean yelled from the top of the stairs.

“Go to your house!” Eren returned.

Jean came down as if it were his own house and threw himself on the sofa next to Armin, almost on top of him, with his arm around the other's shoulders.

"Is it necessary to sit like this?" Armin turned his head to him making a face and Jean kissed him. “Wasn't it that you were looking for a one night stand?”

"Ah, that was if I had sex."

"We can solve– no, ah, I can't say," Armin laughed sheepishly and Jean saw the color rushing across his face.

"This is the Armin I know!" He laughed out loud, then pulled him closer to himself with his arm and put his other hand on Armin's cheek. “I’m gonna kiss you.”

"Why are you announcing it?"

Jean shrugged, "so you know."

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Maybe in a month I'll update the next part haha it's so tiring translating... the next part has like 15k words lmao.
> 
> [Follow me on twitter!](https://twitter.com/1000i_g%22)


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